Deafening
by Vaudevillain
Summary: Jack and Roger discuss life on the island dreams, fantasies, desires. JackRoger.


**Deafening**

Cold rain pounded on granite with the force of bombshells. The constant pounding of waves against rock crashed tremendously and was more deafening than the thunder crackling in the background like a badly tuned radio. Lightning criss-crossed the sky like so many luminescent spiders, skittering across the heavens and vanishing but not before imbuing their skeletal frame on the insides of your eyelids. A blisteringly cold wind passed through the cave, piercing Jack's thin clothes like bullets.

Jack would have shivered, but it seemed as if he lost the ability to show weakness long ago. Instead, he smirked. He wasn't sure what he was smirking at. Perhaps it was the fact that physical pain could no longer reach him, that his heart had long before turned colder more than the bitterest wind. Perhaps it was the thought of Ralph huddling by himself, knees drawn tight to his chest keeping himself warm alone.

Reasons were no longer important and Jack continued to smirk.

In the entrance of the cave her saw a figure silhouetted by a bolt of lightning. His heart jumped but he remained sitting grasping his spear, his knuckles turning white and muscles contracting violently. His eyes narrowed, trying to see the face of his intruder. Suddenly his heart pounded tightly against his chest, the intruder seemed to be the same size as Ralph. Jack ground his teeth before speaking.

"Who –"

"It's Roger."

Jack let go of his spear and sighed feeling his heart return to a more relaxed rhythm.

"What do you want?"

Roger didn't reply, but sat down beside Jack instead. Jack could feel the coldness radiating from his body, as if it wasn't coming from the exterior, but from deep inside. Jack shivered in spite of himself, and frowned at this display. Something was different now though. When Roger was around suddenly barriers were destroyed, cast aside. It was because of the bond they shared. There was something similar between Roger and Jack. Something deep-rooted that drew them together, like brothers. A deep respect for each other's abilities connected them while a shared interest and philosophy kept them together. Jack found a bit of himself in Roger that he found in no one else.

"What do you want?" Jack repeated, but without caring for an answer this time. He knew why Roger was here. There was something about these nights, full of rain and mistrust that drew Jack and Roger together. They sat in Jack's cave and watched the storms, almost celebrating how far they had gone, the control they had. Something drew them together.

"I'm cold." Roger said monotonously.

"You're freezing." Jack said, almost sounding bored with the whole situation. "You should take that off" he said pointing to Roger's soaking clothes "or you'll become a bloody icicle." Jack chuckled to himself, a deep chuckle that resonated from his belly. A genuine chuckle. It wasn't a chuckle at his joke though, Jack was laughing at the look in Roger's eyes. Illuminated by a bolt of lightning, Jack saw a mixture of embarrassment and fear flicker in Roger's eyes as he discarded his soaking and ripped shirt. Out of the all the other children, Roger seemed the most ashamed of his body. His golden tanned body glowed pale in the quick flashes of light and Jack couldn't help but notice how smooth his skin was.

"Here." Jack took off his dry, albeit stiff, shirt and gave it to Roger, who was shivering, holding his cold knees to his smooth chest. Roger shot him a look of gratefulness which Jack barely caught in the flash of lightning. Roger threw on the shirt, pulling it over his knees smiling indulgently in the dark.

"We did it." Jack said, his drawling voice injected with a self-aware tone of pride.

Roger smiled indulgently again. Jack managed to glimpse it in the passing light of another bolt of lightning and smiled to himself. Jack rarely saw Roger smile.

"You did it." Roger replied, sounding slightly dejected though a certain sense of pride in Jack seemed to filter through strongly.

"We did." Jack replied daring Roger to contradict him. Then he did something he never thought he would do, not now. He reached for Roger's hand and grabbed it in a tight hold. The action was automatic, the residue of Jack's old life as choirboy. The residue of his old life at home, where he had friends he could trust and had times of pure joy. A time where he didn't have to hunt and kill. Jack wanted to pull away at first, but Roger squeezed his hand reassuringly and suddenly Jack didn't feel so alone anymore. It was as if the mental connection Roger and Jack shared became physical, their bodies connected as their hands touched and their fingers laced and their minds connected through their accomplishments.

They sat staring out at the rain for a long time in silence, neither boy taking their hand away. They had done it. They had the tribe. They had leadership. They had control. He and Roger were at the top. A bolt of lightning danced under the grey clouds as if something was scribbling its name across the heavens and was followed by the explosion of thunder. Jack felt Roger draw closer. Jack was surprised that he found himself wanting to move away out of reflex. Had he become that mistrusting since being on this island?

Jack was sharply reminded of what Roger had said to him earlier. '_Trust no one. Except for me._' At the time Jack merely grinned and brushed it off thinking Roger was just acting stupid, but the more he thought about it, the more truth it held. He could only trust Roger. Roger who would give everything up for Jack.

Another flash of lightning. Another crash of thunder.

And then Roger kissed him. Gently, hesitantly on Jack's cheek. It was quick, almost shameful, but Roger kissed him. It was so sudden Jack was left with his mouth slack, speechless. It was a few moments before Jack collected enough breath to speak.

"You –"

"Sorry." Roger interrupted, letting go of Jack's hand suddenly. Jack almost recoiled as a gust of cold air slashed his sweaty hand like a knife.

Roger made to stand up, but Jack pressed his hand to his shoulder forcing him to sit.

"What was that?" Jack's voice sounded colder, crueler than he wanted it to. He wasn't angry, just shocked. Just scared.

"I'm sorry." Roger replied, his voice was deep and with a melodicness Jack had never heard from Roger. It was a deep resonating tone, one of hurt, shame and resent. It was colder than the wind and sent chills up Jack's spine.

"Stop apologizing." Jack said with a warmer tone, though at the same time it carried a quality of calm finality.

"I'll leave." Roger said after a few moments of silence.

Before Roger was able to move though, Jack kissed Roger quickly, pressing his soft lips to Roger's cheek confidently, without a trace of the hesitation Jack felt in the pit of his stomach. The warmth of Roger's cheek was an almost painful contrast with the cold air of the cave. Jack wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore, but whatever it was, it felt right.

"Don't leave, Roger." Jack said quietly. He didn't know what he was feeling, but he didn't care. He was caught up in the moment, he was caught up in the warmth. Warmth unlike that provided by the sun, but warmth that seemed to penetrate his heart.

"I won't." Roger replied just as quietly.

The two boys sat there together, hands together, fingers laced, watching the falling rain.


End file.
